House Made of Paper
by marshmallowhobo
Summary: After Sectionals, Quinn gets sent to LA. Her parents send her to deliver her baby at her grandparents house because they're ashamed. When Quinn returns to Lima, she has changed more dramatically than anyone could have ever imagined. Tattooed!Quinn AU
1. Prologue : Part I

In the days leading up to the start of high school; Quinn Fabray was a 14 year old girl with a plan. She knew exactly what she wanted, and which strategic moves to make in order to accomplish her, albeit shallow dreams. During the warm summer days, Quinn spent all of her time in the company of her older sister, lazing by the side of the pool in their parent's backyard. Grace was leaving for college come September, going against their father's wishes to study Interior Design at the Illinois Institute of Art in Chicago. Russel Fabray had shouted for hours, demanding that Grace do something worthwhile with her life. He ended by giving her an ultimatum; switch majors or lose access to the substantial college fund that had been building over the years. Judy Fabray however, was a long term devote fan of Home & Design Magazine, so had taken a tearful Grace out of the room and away from her pacing father, and promised that she would help pay her daughter's fees.

In the evenings, Quinn helped her sister pack away the remainder of her belongings that would not be going with her to college. Grace had grudgingly accepted Quinn's constant pleas to relinquish her substantially larger bedroom, only with the promise that whenever she came home to visit, Quinn would wash her car and cater to whatever whim she may have. As the siblings transferred items into boxes, and boxes into the garage, Grace regaled the younger Fabray with stories from her past years in high school.

Quinn always listened attentively, hanging onto every word spoken about Prom, the pros and cons of off campus lunches, and the benefits of being a social chair committee member. Throughout their conversations, one thing became clear to Quinn; with popularity came power.

When the time came for Grace to leave, Quinn hugged her tightly before standing back and waving at her father's retreating Sedan. Once the car had disappeared from view, the blonde rushed into the house and climbed the stairs two at a time. She stood in the entrance to her old bedroom, taking a moment to survey everything before hurriedly throwing things into boxes. Gone was her collection of china dolls that her grandmother had been sending her periodically every Christmas, taking their place on the vanity in her new room was a collection of cosmetic products that Grace had thrown away. She regarded the oil paintings of horses and puppies that adorned her old walls with distaste. She would put up meticulously cut out pages from high fashion magazines, specifically those that she felt showcased a woman's body as the perfection she would strive to achieve.

The room in which she had grown up in suddenly annoyed Quinn. It looked as if a four year old clown who had eaten far too much cotton candy had struggled with a bout of motion sickness before throwing up rainbows and glitter all over the small space. Whereas her new bedroom looked sophisticated and chic. It was a new era, she had decided, she was starting high school and it was time to grow up.

On Monday morning, Quinn woke up long before her alarm went off. She stretched her arms above her head and ignored the flutter of nervousness in her stomach. Once she had made her bed and said her morning prayers, she padded barefoot down the stairs. The house was empty, but that wasn't a surprise considering it was around six thirty and her parents always left for work early. She poured herself some cereal and sat at the table in the dining room. There was a note from her mother, stating that both she and Russel had to work late so Quinn would have to fix dinner for herself. No acknowledgement that this was a big day for the blonde, no good luck wishes. But again, that wasn't so surprising.

She packed a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, along with some chips and a juice box for lunch then headed back upstairs to shower and change. After considering no less than five different outfits, she chose a beige summer dress and a navy cardigan in case it got cooler. After putting the necessary stationary into her backpack, she threw one last fond look at the cross adhered to the wall above her bed, then left the house to wait for her best friend's dad to pick her up.

The first few hours of high school were going easily for Quinn, after arriving with Santana Lopez they had quickly discovered that they shared most of their classes together. As the lunch bell rang, the halls crowded with over exuberant freshmen, all making their way to the cafeteria. Quinn and Santana followed the masses, chatting idly about some of the faces they recognized from middle school, and those who were completely new.

The cafeteria was erupting with chatter; teenagers from all over town were introducing themselves and attempting to strike up friendships. Quinn knew she needn't worry about fitting in, thanks to the mental blueprint of instructions she'd created from Grace's stories, she had a checklist for success. Once she had completed each step, the students of William McKinley High School would be begging to know even the most trivial piece of information about her.

She took a seat at a table with Santana against the far wall of the room, underneath a large window looking out onto the quad. She deemed it the best table in the cafeteria, already striving for elitism as she glared at the people around her. Quinn and Santana were in the middle of discussing when would be best to approach the infamous Coach Sue Sylvester in a bid to join the school's cheerleading squad, when a lanky blonde haired girl literally skipped over to their table and sat down. She introduced herself with a sunny smile as Brittany, and Quinn was about to let rip with one of the scathing remarks she had been practicing in the mirror all weekend, but Santana interrupted her. Instead, her best friend bit back her own usually hostile demeanour and welcomed Brittany to hang out with them for lunch. Quinn raised a questioning brow at the Latina, but Santana just glanced at the girl sitting next to her and shrugged. Sensing the eyes on her, Brittany flashed both girls a toothy grin before pulling three rainbow topped cupcakes out of her lunch bag. Quinn felt the agitation leave her body as the taller blonde handed her one of the treats. The three girls then continued to plan out the phases in Quinn's figurative popularity handbook, step one – become a Cheerio.

Step two was simple, she had informed both her best and new friend, though it came in two parts. The first was to join the Christ Crusaders; McKinley's abstinence club. The second was to date a high calibre future sports star. Quinn had already perused the student signup sheet for the football team tryouts and after matching the names with the faces, decided that Finn Hudson, Noah Puckerman and Matt Rutherford seemed worthy of their interest. The point of this step, she had elaborated after seeing the confused and exceptionally baffled looks on Santana and Brittany's faces, was to seem both unattainable and attainable at the same time. The celibacy club protected their innocence, whilst having boyfriends kept the student body interested. Also, if their boyfriends made the varsity team, their high school royalty status would be sealed.

It was during Quinn's explanation of the importance of the third and final step that would ensure their popularity that Brittany noticed a Big Quench machine to the side of the cash register. She stood up abruptly and all but danced towards the line of students queuing to pay for their meals. Not wanting to be interrupted mid scheme, Quinn motioned for Santana to follow her over to where Brittany was impatiently standing, waiting to be served.

She eyed the ice drink suspiciously as Brittany sucked happily on her straw. Chalking it up to her first loss to peer pressure; Quinn began filling a cup of her own. She turned to her friend's, the slushie still pouring from the dispenser. The third step was to always ensure there was someone lower than you on the social ladder. Just as the students needed people to worship, they needed people to look down on too, otherwise there wouldn't really be any kind of caste system, everybody would be the same, and Quinn didn't want to be just another high school girl. She wanted people to remember her, to adore her, to fear her. There was a fine line between love and hate after all, and Quinn was used to blurring her vision to make her world look a little brighter.

She had told Santana and Brittany that their assigned project for the day was to pick a student and begin crafting them into a social leper. Brittany seemed to sulk and Santana announced that Quinn's Big Quench cup was full. The blonde spun on her heel with the intent to pay for the drink but felt her shoulder collide with something soft. Looking up as a soft gasp met her ears, she was momentarily dismayed to realise she had accidently spilled the majority of her grape slushie all over a timid looking brunette.

She was about to apologize profusely, but the crowd gathering in the cafeteria had seen what had happened, and suddenly the laughter was deafening. Instead, Quinn ignored the tears gathering in the other girl's dark eyes and focused on her ruined outfit. Purple liquid was seeping into the fabric of dark blue argyle, dripping down a pleated skirt and white knee socks, pooling around overly polished Mary Jane shoes. The girl sniffled once, before hastily running towards the exit and Quinn turned back to a wide eyed Brittany and a satisfied Santana, declaring that she had found her pick.


	2. Prologue : Part II

**Author's Note:** If you like the story, or even if you hate it, please take a few moments to review and leave your thoughts. Feedback seriously gives me the incentive to continue writing this.

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Quinn had inadvertently started a craze, all because of one less than graceful moment. Every day she passed students in the hall, their clothes soaked through with multicoloured corn syrup. The girls would pass the blonde quickly, misery present in their eyes, whilst the boys would clench their fists and tighten their jaws before ducking into the closest bathroom. As for the girl she had originally drenched by accident, Quinn had heard her name was Rachel Berry, and she was the literal poster child for what the kids had now coined – getting slushied.

It seemed that everywhere she looked there was either a jock grinning whilst stalking the halls, Big Quench held threateningly in his hand, or someone cowered against their locker scanning every direction nervously. Quinn realised she had invented a new form of high school bullying, and every so often she would feel tremendously guilty. But then that Rachel girl would shoulder past her on the way to class with such a strong air of dignity and loathing, and Quinn would feel better about smiling at an onlooker who'd snickered and admired her genius.

Joining the Cheerios and the Chastity Club had been uncomplicated, she'd taken a variety of dance classes until she was eight years old and her father decided that her eagerness would be better directed at church activities. Also, she had been studying each of the Bring It On movies almost religiously. Once Coach Sylvester had deduced Quinn could do more than a few unpractised arabesques and pirouettes, she had handed the young girl a strict dietary schedule, a uniform and the warning to be on the football field at six the next morning.

It was after her third cheerleading practise that Quinn realised that simply being a member of the team would not be enough. Though she received a small influx of adoration and catcalls in the hallways, there was still someone above her, someone she had to answer to. It was quickly determined that Quinn would need a much higher rank on the squad, the highest even, but it was completely unheard of for a freshman to receive the title of head cheerleader.

Quinn had sat in the bleachers alone, the slight sheen of sweat on her forehead drying up as the sun set beyond the field. Chrystal Sullivan, the captain of the Cheerios was obliviously gathering discarded water bottles from the ground and tossing them into a trash bag. Unbeknownst to her, as she jogged across the asphalt at the edge of the 40 yard line towards the double doors leading to the girl's locker room, she became clinched in Quinn's reticule.

She would have backed down if it hadn't been so effortless, she had spent a few days carefully plotting ways to get Chrystal to retire her captainship, dismissing juvenile ideas of peroxide shampoo and itching talc. She had decided that she needed to know her enemy, so after practice one Thursday she followed her home. What she found had been beyond surprising, and was all the ammo she knew she'd need.

The following Monday, Quinn had stormed into Coach Sylvester's office and delivered, without trepidation or hesitance, the statement that Chrystal Sullivan lived across town in Crestwood, in a mobile home. Coach Sylvester had been outraged, her strong belief being that anyone whose residence was built with less than three bedrooms must be a drug peddling, illegal immigrant.

Quinn ignored Chrystal's tears as the coach tore her birth certificate to pieces in front of the rest of the squad, demanding it must be fraudulent. She was prepared for a new captain to be elected, her brain already formulating ways to eliminate any candidate who came forward. Instead, her smug smirk betrayed her astonishment when Coach Sylvester named her, freshman Quinn Fabray as the next Cheerio captain.

Word quickly spread around the school that Chrystal Sullivan was a fleeing inhabitant of a tiny, unknown island off the coast of Mexico, and Quinn took more than a little pleasure watching as those that were once below her on the social ladder laughed whilst tossing slushies in her face.

On Wednesday, the second week of sophomore year, Quinn finally completed the last of her goals. It had taken longer than she had originally intended, for she could not have known that winning Finn Hudson's affections would be so problematic. The boy had the attention span of a newborn feral squirrel at best, and Quinn had spent the whole of freshman year trying to figure out how to become his metaphorical nut, so that he would focus on her for at least four minutes at a time.

She wondered for at least a week if she made him too nervous, due to his skittish behaviour in her presence. And then she considered for another week that he may have ADD. Why else would he seem so oblivious and impassive to her obvious flirtations?

She'd almost given up trying to charm Finn into agreeing to date her, thinking it was more tiresome than he was worth. It would have been simple for her to pick another member of the football team, but there was something special about Finn Hudson. He was the double standard of high school stereotypes, not only the quarterback and standing example of school spirit, but also a genuinely nice guy. His popularity came with ease because everybody liked him, he wasn't biased in his choice of friends and he never intentionally alienated anyone.

He was unmolded clay, ready to be massaged into any shape or form beneficial to Quinn, and after noticing once again how the other girls at McKinley fawned over him; she decided that maybe Finn was worth her effort after all.

It seemed that the only things capable of holding Finn's attention for a substantial amount of time were sports and video games. Whilst she was weighing her self-diagnosis of Attention Deficit Disorder, Quinn tried many things to get Finn to notice her. She baked him cupcakes lathered in green frosting, topped with chocolate covered almonds. Of course the football symbolism was completely lost on him, he'd snatched the box from her hands, ignoring her sultry appreciation of his athletic abilities and all but inhaled the tiny desserts.

She obtained his cell phone number from Santana, who had successfully landed Noah Puckerman no longer than one month into freshman year, though she grudgingly admitted it wasn't the most ideal choice. Noah had quickly been revealed as quite the womanizer, and was now known throughout the halls of McKinley High as Puck – a name which was given to him simply as shorthand for Puckerman, or his behaviour as quite the trickster, Quinn wasn't sure. Either way, Puck had his uses, and Santana wasn't above exploiting them. She'd call Finn at 7:00am sharp on Friday mornings to give him an inspirational game day pep talk before school, most of which ended with her hanging up in frustration when all she got in response to her carefully researched sentiments was grunting or snoring.

Quinn had even thought of stooping to an entire new level of low, perusing the local jewellers for the cheapest, yet most extravagant necklace she could find. She'd heard rumours about teenage boys and shiny objects.

Just when Quinn had officially run out of ideas, Brittany had nudged her in the cafeteria and effectively broken her out of her Finn induced haze. The girl who by now had become an integral part of Quinn and Santana's friendship started talking animatedly, gesturing wildly around the room. After some gentle coaxing from Quinn, Brittany who was known to easily slip from one subject to another unintentionally, stopped gushing about her most recent date with Matt and informed Quinn of the night's plans.

Brittany and Matt were going over to Puck's house after school, to hang out with him and Santana. Brittany insisted that Quinn come along, and rebuffed the blonde's claims that she would be a fifth wheel by revealing that Finn had earlier accepted the invitation to join them.

When school let out, Quinn caught a ride with Santana and they trailed Puck's truck back to his place. After a brief introduction to Puck's mom, who informed them that she was leaving for her bridge game and not to wait up, the six of them made their way up to Puck's bedroom. His room was not at all what Quinn had expected. She thought it would be hideously untidy, plates of half eaten food littering the floor and posters of naked, or at least half naked women lining the walls.

Instead it was painstakingly clean; everything seeming to have its place, and always being returned to it after use. He had a black futon bed that was in its couch position, the bedding folded and neatly stored by the side. There were two large beanbags thrown in front of the closed doors of his closet, and the beige walls were decorated with framed, neatly hung posters advertising Scarface, Gridiron Gang and interestingly; American Pie, as well as some sporting pennants and merchandise. Across the room from the futon was a large HD TV, set on top of a low wooden shelving unit which housed his Xbox and games. Either side of that were tall bookcases made from the same wood, stacked full with DVDs.

Puck gestured for them to sit, Santana and himself quickly getting comfortable on the futon love seat. Brittany sat down on one of the beanbags, giggling quietly as her body swayed around slightly before settling into the groove her weight had created. Matt reclined on the floor at her feet, which left Quinn and Finn standing awkwardly besides the remaining beanbag.

Finn had offered her the more comfortable seating option, once again proving his gentleness with a wave of his hand. She had sat down, smiling softly at the tall boy when he awkwardly lowered himself off to her side, trying to fold his legs as close to his body as possible.

They had chatted idly for a while before Puck announced that discussing school outside of school was so far beyond lame his brain was bleeding. He'd then stood and pulled a box from under his desk, opening it and throwing a few textbooks onto the ground before turning back to face his friends with a beer in one hand, and an exotic berry wine cooler in the other. Santana took the proffered drink and uncapped the lid like it was an everyday occurrence, and Quinn was shocked to see Brittany, Matt and Finn do the same once Puck had passed out more bottles.

Puck held out the alcoholic beverage to her with a smirk and a raised eyebrow and Quinn felt the overwhelming urge to decline. Though once she glanced around the room and noticed each of her friends eagerly downing the liquid as fast as they could, she supposed it was time she grew up entirely.

The wine cooler was deceiving, after her first bottle Quinn found that it just tasted like soda. So she was rather confused when four bottles down, she suddenly found everything anyone said hilarious. They spent the evening eating the pizzas they had ordered and the girls gossiped and cheered on the boys as they enthusiastically blew things up on a video game. Quinn happily high fived Finn after he expertly sniped an armed gunman who Puck had deemed near impossible to kill.

The next day Quinn had come into school with the newest Call of Duty and Madden games, unwrapped and still in their Gamestop bag. She found Finn leaning against his locker, laughing with Dave Karofsky. Walking over to him, she nonchalantly handed him the bag and watched as the confusion in his eyes gave way to delight. And just like that, Finn Hudson was hers.


	3. Prologue : Part III

**Author's Note: Thank you to everyone that has subscribed or added this to their favourites. I really appreciate it. Though you know, I wouldn't mind a review here and there, it's hearing your comments that fuel the drive for me to continue writing this.**

As the school year went on, Quinn found that she was steadily losing herself, and though she was entirely aware of the childhood innocence draining from her body, she was already too compelled with her addiction for power to stop it from happening. She sabotaged the happiness of others to compensate for the emptiness growing inside of her, realising that with every crushing insult delivered, her heart seemed to shrink a little more. She knew she should cease what had become the natural cruelty of her actions, but she was too far gone. Quinn no longer wanted to be the most adored girl walking the halls of McKinley; she wanted to be the most feared.

With Santana and Brittany consistently flanking her side, Quinn's scathing mockery became harsher; it became a game for her to see how many students she could reduce to tears during the day. She no longer had to physically throw a slushie into someone's face, her group of devote lackeys was large enough that she simply had to point a finger at an unsuspecting target and there was someone hovering close by to execute the attack.

Despite the fact that Quinn had achieved everything that she had set out to, she was becoming increasingly miserable. Her house was always empty because her parents were either at work or pandering to potential clients in local bars. She missed Grace's company desperately, but held off from returning her phone calls because she was sure her sister would be disappointed in the person she had become.

She lived by a strict schedule which was difficult to maintain, the Cheerios met for practice every weekday at six am for an hour, two on game day. And whenever Coach Sylvester decided to throw in an extra session after school, for however long she thought necessary. On Wednesdays she attended the meetings of the Christ Crusaders, and the weekends were spent solely at church, or completing her household chores and homework. Coach Sylvester had her eating what felt like nothing, and was constantly taping printed photos of models to the outside of her locker door, each one a smaller dress size than the last. She was permanently exhausted, never able to get the amount of sleep her body required.

Her relationship with Finn was strained; they didn't really have anything in common apart from the roles they both played in the high school's hierarchy. Quinn would attempt to regale him with stories of her latest conquest's grief in the halls, but Finn would shake his head disapprovingly and tell her he wished she'd be kinder. Then he would start to babble on about something trivial such as the differences between the NFL and AFL, leaving Quinn to dwell on how her life was developing.

When she couldn't stand listening to her own subconscious taunt her for a second longer, she would lean forward and capture Finn's lips. There were no fireworks exploding behind her closed eyelids, no butterflies mauling each other in her stomach in a bid for freedom. There was nothing, Quinn felt nothing, and it was soothing. She would let him kiss her for a few minutes, only to keep his interest in her alive, never allowing him go any further than clumsily groping at the hem of her cheerleading uniform.

She wasn't happy; even when performing numerous front handspring, front tuck variations at the Friday night game with a megawatt smile plastered on her face. She was content with what she had, but could never quite quell the thirst for more.

All of a sudden things were changing, rumour around the school was that Mr Ryerson had been fired for molesting a male student and the Spanish teacher, Mr Schuester had taken it upon himself to resurrect the dying glee club. This didn't affect Quinn directly; at least until Santana had informed her quietly in the locker room after an especially rigorous Cheerios practice that Finn had been recruited into the midst. Quinn was furious, her popularity seemingly threatened. Couldn't Finn see that joining a singing and dancing band of miscreants was social suicide? Didn't he care about her at all?

She had stalked the halls until she had found him; at his locker engaged in a conversation with Rachel Berry of all people. Quinn had never expended too much energy on the girl she had first chosen to bully; she just didn't seem worth it. No matter what the blonde said to her, however personal her verbal attacks hit, the brunette just seemed to brush them off with the same infuriating air of self assurance. The only time she was on Quinn's radar was either when falling victim to the latest slushie attack or when the cheerleaders gathered together on the bleachers before practice, Quinn's laptop open before them as they took turns in leaving spiteful comments aimed at Rachel's parental situation on her Myspace page. The other girl was asking for it though, otherwise she would have quit uploading a new video showcasing her annoyingly arrogant vocal talents every single night.

On that occasion, Quinn had made a quick snarky comment at Rachel regarding her resemblance to a famous drag queen before demanding to know why Finn was talking to her in the first place. She had rolled her eyes as his lips twitched and his eyes darted around, attempting to find something to say. Rachel announced that they were science partners and Quinn left, reminding her boyfriend that he was to join her at Christ Crusaders at five.

When Finn didn't show for the meeting, Quinn was absolutely livid. Santana nonchalantly mentioned that the glee club had scheduled a rehearsal in the auditorium, and then followed Quinn with unbridled joy when the blonde stormed out of the emptying classroom and down the hallway. They entered the soundproofed room quietly, surprised to find Coach Sylvester gripping the railing of the balcony. She was mumbling something under her breath about the cheerleading budget and her knuckles were turning white. Quinn and Santana daren't say a word to disturb her, so they silently took a place at her side and watched the activity unfolding on the stage below them.

There were five of them, prancing around the stage singing an outdated 80s song that Quinn may have heard once or twice. Her eyes studied Finn intently; he looked so happy that her stomach tensed with disgust. When the song ended and Mr Schuester began to applaud, the cheerleaders and their coach took the opportunity to retreat out of the room unnoticed. The last thing Quinn heard was the enthusiasm in Finn's voice as he responded to whatever Mr Schuester had said.

Quinn wasn't conscious of the fact that as she'd watched Rachel Berry twirl around her boyfriend with unadulterated excitement in her eyes, she had stepped onto the path that would inevitably lead to her downfall. In the days that followed, the situation became increasingly dire. She attempted frivolously to talk Finn into quitting the Glee club, even sinking far enough to try to emasculate him and exploit his sexuality. But he wouldn't surrender, and Quinn could literally feel her dreams of becoming prom queen shattering with every word he spoke about singing, expression and joy.

She was forced to return her attention to Rachel, who always seemed to be in the vicinity nowadays. She gave the girl fair warning that if she pursued Finn as anything more than another vocalist in her little band of failures, it would not end well. Ignoring the dignified rant that the brunette retaliated with, Quinn discreetly made a hand gesture to Puck and Karofsky who were walking towards them with slushies in hand. As Rachel turned to make her grand retreat from the cheerleader, she was hit in the face with two iced drinks. Quinn laughed heartily, hoping that her message had been clearly received.

It would seem though, that Quinn had underestimated the sheer stupidity of the girl. When she had breezed into the celibacy club meeting that afternoon with her friends, Brittany nudged her arm and looked pointedly at a chair across the room. Rachel was sitting, nervously playing with her hands as she waited for the cheerleaders to take their seats. When the meeting commenced, Quinn quickly discovered that Rachel was completely transparent in her motives for joining them. Using any chance to punish the girl for involving her boyfriend in her pitiful cry for attention, she paired Rachel with Jacob Ben Israel, possibly the only person in the whole of McKinley with a lower social status. They began the immaculate affection, a weekly activity intended to remind teenage boys to practice abstinence.

Rachel had interrupted her, just when she was about to chastise Finn for bursting the inflated balloon held between their bodies. She began a long winded announcement to the room that women wanted sex, just as much as men did. And Quinn's eyes narrowed as she realised Rachel seemed to be directing her statement at Finn, who was hanging off of every word. Quinn was ready to throttle her, but before she could move Rachel had already left the room.

Quinn had then taken Finn by the hand, desperate to dislodge from his mind from whatever filthy imagery Rachel had placed there. She ignored his awestruck questions about the truth in the brunette's words, leading him into the darkened science lab. When Finn announced he wasn't in the mood to do homework, she placed her hands on his chest and pressed him back against the door. She told him that for today only, she was willing to compromise. If he promised to continue to abstain from any sexual behaviour, she would allow him to touch her breast for no longer than five minutes. It was all very formal, but Finn had eagerly agreed. His mouth moved against hers more messily than ever before as he seemed to put all of his concentration into groping roughly at her chest. She closed her eyes and kissed him back robotically, counting to three hundred in her head.

When she reached two hundred and forty seven, she couldn't stand another second. She pulled back and pushed his hand out from beneath her cheerleading top, refraining from slapping the dazed look from his face. He kissed her once more on the cheek before stumbling out of the room, calling over his shoulder that he was going to be late for the assembly run through. Quinn wiped her mouth on the back of her hand, readjusted her bra and felt decidedly unclean. But at least Finn had seemed satisfied enough, for now. She took a moment to sit down on one of the stools and say a short prayer, asking God to forgive her for what she had just done, assuring him that it was completely necessary in ensuring her overall happiness.

Principal Figgins had made it abundantly clear that all students and faculty members should attend the impromptu assembly after school. Quinn sat amongst the Cheerios, stifling her laughter every time Coach Sylvester would voice a particularly amusing observation of Mr Schuester's hairstyle. She yawned in genuine boredom when the newly appointed vocal director mentioned that they were looking for new members to register their interest in the club.

As soon as the curtains parted, Quinn's jaw slackened. Rachel Berry had the audacity to be on a stage, in the presence of the entire school, bent over at the waist suggestively in front of Finn's crotch. The music started and the blonde could feel her eyes drying up, the ability to blink apparently lost. It got worse, a lot worse. The lyrics were describing fornication, the dance moves nothing more than a theatrical display of lewd sexual positions. She could feel her face burning, the eyes of those around her watching her nervously as Rachel lowered herself to her knees behind Artie Abrams' wheelchair, only the top of her head and her hand visible as she ran it down the front of Finn's stomach.

Her fingernails were cutting into her palms, she had never been so angry or embarrassed in her life. Surprising to even her, she had also felt a twinge of hurt, knowing that she had disgraced herself in the science room minutes ago to appease Finn and now he was out here making her look like a complete idiot in front of everyone. More than once she thought she caught Rachel watching her, the brunette smirking whilst she continued to make Quinn cringe with the disgustingly perverted choreography. She was going to kill Rachel Berry, she was going to annihilate her, or at least make the remainder of her high school experience as painful as physically possible. When the crowd immaturely exploded with applause, Quinn calmly stood and left the assembly hall.


	4. Prologue : Part IV

**AN: Thank you everyone that has taken the time to review. And thanks to those adding me, and the fic to their favourites/subscription list. It should be known that the prologue will be very lengthy, so she won't be going to LA any time soon. But it will be worth it. What's better than backstory, deleted scenes and character development? Also, this part is rated T. It's nothing much, but it isn't pleasant.**

She had known that she couldn't go home yet, that as soon as she entered the silent house her mind would be bombarded with the imagery of Rachel, in a ridiculously short skirt practically procreating with her boyfriend for all to see. The assembly wasn't due to let out for another ten minutes, so Quinn had taken a seat on the curb in front of the parking lot. Her breaths were coming in ragged pants, her nostrils flaring as her chest rose and fell heavily. She let her head fall forward to rest on her knees and tried gravely to deflate the anger continuing to swell beneath her ribs, stiffening when she felt a hand tighten around her shoulder.

She turned her face with every intention of projecting the growing animosity at whoever had dared to approach her, though she immediately relaxed when she found Puck standing above her, his palms held out in surrender and a smirk playing on his lips. He said nothing but offered her his hand, which she took and he had lead her to his truck. As they drove he stayed silent, Quinn encouraged him to remain so by continuously changing the radio station.

When they pulled up to his house, Puck broke the silence only to mumble that his mom and little sister were out of town visiting his grandparents. He took her hand once again and they walked up the stairs to his bedroom where he ushered her to sit on his bed before pulling out a wine cooler from his stash. She wordlessly snatched the bottle from him, uncapping and emptying its contents in one fluid motion. Puck's smile widened and he quickly handed her another drink, sipping a beer of his own. Quinn was unsure of when she had gone from being perched on the end of his bed, to reclining comfortably with her back against the headboard. She safely assumed that it was at some point during her second and sixth wine cooler. Puck had laid down beside her, his arm bent and supporting the weight of his head as he alternated between nodding in agreement to something she said, and eagerly handing her another drink from the box he had pulled up to their side, seconds after she finished the last.

With every grateful swallow of alcohol, her muscles released the angry tension and the connection from her brain to her mouth loosened. She felt vulnerable for the first time since the summer before freshman year, asking Puck over and over if he thought she was ugly. If he thought that Rachel was prettier than her, if her body was fat in the places that Rachel's lack of clothing had earlier displayed she was toned. Puck had scoffed, telling her adamantly that she was beautiful, that Rachel Berry was no comparison to her.

She didn't trust his words though and before she could compose herself, the tears had begun to fall. Puck took the wine cooler from her fingers, placing it on the nightstand along with his solitary beer bottle. She didn't push him away when he kissed her, desperate to know that someone still found her attractive. Finn's mouth had always felt too wet, too graceless whereas Puck was kissing her with purpose. He'd obviously had a lot of practice, but his mouth was still too dry, his tongue too hasty when he forced it past her teeth.

Quinn half-heartedly tried to remember how many wine coolers she had accepted from the football player who was not her boyfriend, but her brain had apparently already succumbed to drowning in the toxic haze. When he grasped her by the waist and roughly pulled her down until her head was resting against the pillows, kissing along her throat, she knew that she should stop him. But he was mumbling into her skin that she was perfect, and she needed to keep hearing it.

When Puck began removing her clothes, she trained her eyes on a specific crack in the ceiling, only paying attention to the words slipping from his lips every few minutes. His touches weren't gentle, betraying the sentiments that he cared about making her feel good.

It was over quickly and Puck suddenly rolled his body off of hers, zipping up the jeans he hadn't bothered to remove. Quinn watched as he walked over to turn on his Xbox, not sparing her a single glance. She sobered immediately, gathering the comforter up and around her shoulders in order to protect her naked form from the suddenly chilly air. When it became clear that Puck was no longer interested in her company, she'd stood and dressed with all the dignity she could muster. She didn't speak a word to the boy who was now sat shirtless in front of his TV on a beanbag, muttering profanities whilst virtually tossing hand grenades. She ignored the dull ache between her legs as she slipped from the room, down the stairs and out the front door. Only when starting the long walk back to her own home did Quinn allow her tears to fall freely.

Quinn hadn't slept much that night, though she had showered vigorously three times before kneeling to say her prayers, she could still smell Puck's odour lingering on her skin. She could feel the heavy phantom weight of his body pressing down on her as she lay in her own bed, and hear the sounds of his catching breath loudly in her ears.

When her alarm sounded at 5:00am, Quinn had long been awake. She started to neatly remake her bed, but as she folded down the top of the comforter, the strong scent of Axe deodorant overpowered her senses. Grimacing for a moment, she did not hesitate in tearing the linen from her bed and dumping it into a garbage bag.

When Quinn walked through the school's main doors with Santana by her side, she faltered as she noticed Puck advancing on them. He greeted his girlfriend with a wide smile, pulling her in for a deep kiss whilst conspicuously watching Quinn. Bile rose in her throat as Santana bid her goodbye and pulled Puck away by the hand, the boy turning to wink at the blonde over his shoulder.

By the time third period let out, Quinn was exhausted. She'd been avoiding Finn all morning and her boyfriend hadn't seemed to notice. She would have been relieved if it hadn't been for the fact that every time her hazel eyes would scan the surroundings for possible escape routes, she would see him talking animatedly with Rachel. And when the hushed fury began to simmer in her stomach, bubbling out and dousing her organs, she could feel the eyes of everyone around her, waiting with bated breath in hopes of bearing witness to the imminent explosion.

But Quinn was far beyond petty tactics, she needed something bigger. Just like she had with Chrystal Sullivan, she needed to know the most intimate of secrets pertaining to her enemy in order to bring her down. Unfortunately, Quinn could only think of one environment that would allow her to openly study Rachel Berry with no defences. During their shared World Lit class, Quinn laid out her plan to Santana and Brittany. The Latina was rightfully mortified, but after Quinn presented her with the opportunity of destroying the club from within and harbouring a colossal amount of information to turn against the gleeks in the process, she conceded.

Brittany had joined the Cheerios as an extension of her love for dance, she had already enthusiastically agreed to support Quinn as soon as the blonde had mentioned joining the glee club, before Quinn had even gotten around to the fact that they were infiltrating with the intention to disband. They decided on spending the majority of their lunch period choosing and downloading a song and putting together some simple choreography, then they would audition for Mr Schuester in the practice room before fifth period.

Mr Schuester invited them into the room kindly, easily accepting Quinn's proclamation that she wanted to be a part of the glee club to lend support to Finn. Quinn was a decent singer, though she was no belter, her sister had once told her that her voice could bring people closer to God. They performed a shortened version of "I Say A Little Prayer" in order to solidify the wholesome nature that they could bring to glee that the club was direly lacking. Mr Schuester was beside himself with joy, immediately clapping each of them on the shoulder and handing them a laminated schedule of practice times.

Once they exited the band room, Santana had made a gagging sound in the back of her throat and headed in the direction of Coach Sylvester's office. She explained to her two friends that it would be better for them to inform the coach that they were enrolling in glee themselves, before she found out on her own and threw them off of the squad.

Quinn liked to think that she had come to understand Sue Sylvester marginally well, she had somewhat idolized the older woman when first beginning her rise to power. Sue was ruthless; she achieved everything she set her mind to with the ease and grace of an Amazonian warrior. Quinn decided to play it tactful, effortlessly portraying the role of an endearing teenage girl worried about losing her boyfriend. She knew Sue's thought process, and that it would be far less painful for all of them if the coach believed that she had concocted a greater, more devious plan all by herself.

Coach Sylvester may have been feared by the majority of both students and faculty members alike, known throughout Lima for her questionable teaching methods, but she was also predictable in her approach to abolition. Seek, stalk, and destroy. After setting her sights on her unsuspecting victims, she would spend time watching, sending in camouflaged minions to gather evidence. Then she would use said evidence to obliterate the opposition. This time was no different to any other. Quinn internalised the urge to smile victoriously as Sue's eyes brightened, she leant across the desk conspiringly and adopted the tone of a highly strung General.


	5. Prologue : Part V

**Author's Note:** _I am extremely aware that I suck. I haven't updated this in so long. I'm ashamed. I hope people are still interested in reading. I have no excuses other than real life has been stressing me out, and my normally reluctant muse has decided to take an impromptu vacation to god knows where. I'm posting this part in hopes of luring it back home, so please, if you find it - probably wasted and in tatters - please kindly return the little fucker back to me. Stat._

_..._

Quinn hadn't realised how emotionally draining being in the glee club would be, every morning she would wake up more fatigued than the last, despite retiring to bed earlier than usual the night before. The days were rapidly transitioning into weeks, and every attempt to eradicate the group resulted in failure. It didn't matter what strategic fractures she injected into the structure of their relationships, her schemes only brought them closer together.

Firstly, she had attacked the foundation of the club; Rachel Berry. Santana and Quinn had accosted the shorter girl in the hallway before practice one day. It was pathetic, how susceptible the brunette became after a few choice words from the two cheerleaders. Quinn had plastered on an agonizingly fake smile, swallowed her loathing for the shorter girl and spoke in a polite and friendly manner. Santana and Quinn informed Rachel that as long as Mr Schuester was in control of choreographing the routines, their chances of placing at Sectionals were less than nil.

Rachel, always so diligent in her pitiful attempts at appeasing the group responsible for her social torment, was more than willing to listen. Pandering to the girl's selfish need for success and intensely competitive attitude, Quinn easily manipulated Rachel into doing her, and by proxy Coach Sylvester's bidding. Whilst Santana finished laying the groundwork in Rachel's mind, the blonde glanced over the shorter brunette's shoulder. Karofsky was failing to stealthily approach them, clumsily stumbling over his own feet and knocking into a few lockers whilst trying not to spill the slushie in his hands. Quinn threw him a stern glare which sent the hockey player hurrying back the way he came, but not before the cheerleader saw a look of utter confusion settle on his features.

She mentally reminded herself to find Dave later in the day and explain to him why he had wasted the perfect opportunity to humiliate Rachel, and that she would allow him to throw two of the iced beverages on the glee diva the following day to make up for it.

With her mission completed, Quinn threw one last cheerful smile at Rachel before heading into the practice room with a smirking Santana.

She had watched with a face conveying none of the happiness she felt inside as Rachel hesitantly interrupted the adolescent dance steps which Mr Schuester had them running through. The brunette was uncharacteristically kind, suggesting that Will may not be their best option for Sectionals. When the teacher's face fell slightly, she was quick to reassure him of his vocal talents, stating that she merely thought it would be wiser to employ the help of an experienced professional for the dance numbers.

Mr Schuester tried to reason with Rachel, and Quinn could see the resolve breaking down in the girl's deplorable brown eyes. So she delivered a few well aimed barbs at the teacher's insecurities, and smiled contentedly as everything fell into place.

The next day, Rachel breezed into the choir room and declared that Mr Schuester would not be attending that afternoon's practice. She announced her plans to visit Carmel High School instead, in an attempt to recruit the help of the team's choreographer, Dakota Stanley. Quinn sat back in her chair, feeling more relaxed than she had in weeks as she watched Rachel and Finn squabble over the decision of hiring a new instructor.

When Rachel stormed out followed by Finn, their voices still raised, Quinn discreetly high fived Santana before they also left the room and headed to Coach Sylvester's office. The blonde ignored her friend's incessant babbling regarding Brittany and Matt's relationship, and the way the Latina's voice lowered into a growl whilst she complained that Brittany hardly ever had time to hang out alone with her anymore. Quinn chose not to mention that both Brittany and Santana seemed unwilling to include her in their plans recently either, she was too tired to risk Santana feeling guilty and wanting to spend more time together.

When they entered the coach's domain, the two Cheerios immediately took their assigned seats and listened intently to what their leader had to say. Surprisingly, after being assured that Dakota Stanley would hinder and not assist, Sue praised both girls and sent them back out into the field where they were to leave further emotional land mines in the remaining gleeks paths.

As soon as the girls had re-entered the hallway, Puck appeared in front of them out of the crowd. Quinn's stomach clenched tightly and she grimaced, feeling as though the gastric acid licking viciously at her insides was a reminder from God that he was aware of her sinning, and would be punishing her accordingly. Santana pulled her boyfriend in for a kiss and Quinn had to fight the urge to run to the bathroom, she felt dizzy as if she was about to pass out or vomit. She chalked it up to the fact that she'd skipped lunch to meet with Coach Sylvester and because as Puck kissed Santana, he was running his fingers through the ends of her blonde ponytail over his girlfriend's shoulder.

Quinn excused herself abruptly; shoving Puck's groping hand away from her hair and resisting the urge to punch him in the face when she noticed his smirk against the Latina's lips. On her way to the bathroom she had passed Mercedes Jones, a girl so far off of her radar that Quinn hadn't even known she existed until she had actually joined the glee club. It seemed that Quinn suffered from a severe case of tunnel vision when it came to watching the gleeks perform, she was so enraged at Rachel and Finn's blatant behaviour that her eyes hadn't given the other members more than a seconds glance.

Mercedes was boisterous, perfectly capable of matching Rachel Berry's diva persona. But at that moment she was unusually subdued, leaning against her locker and sighing as coupled up students passed her with interlocked fingers. Quinn grunted in disgust as she saw the girl staring at Puck and Santana with pitiful eyes full of genuine longing. Another bout of nausea hit her and she had to place a hand on a nearby wall to steady herself for a moment. When she felt stable enough to stand, her attention was once again called to Mercedes, who was now joined by Kurt Hummel.

Quinn listened intently, one hand subconsciously massaging her abdomen as the overdressed fashionista went on a diatribe overflowing with adolescent woe and insecurity. Kurt noticed her standing against the lockers opposite, and announced that he got through the day knowing that he was far superior to those around him. He sniffed impolitely at Quinn as she turned and walked back in the direction she had come from, then took Mercedes by the arm and led her down the hall. Quinn had noticed the sparkle that lit up in the other girl's eyes as she'd listened to what her friend was saying, and suddenly the maelstrom in her stomach dissipated and was replaced by the serene waves of complete confidence.

Santana had thankfully disconnected herself from Puck, so the blonde beckoned her over with a wave of her hand. They were mentally in tune with each other enough from years of friendship, that Quinn had brought her right hand woman up to speed with a few whispered words. Together they approached the still grinning gleek, linking their arms with hers once Kurt had stridden away. Quinn was continuously surprised by how moronically the members of the glee club wholeheartedly fell for her schemes. With no more than 18 words the cheerleaders successfully had Mercedes believing that Kurt, the most obviously flamboyant homosexual that Quinn had even seen, was romantically attracted to her.

Coach Sylvester thought it would be wise for her three Cheerios to accompany Rachel and the others to Carmel High School, to observe and guarantee that nothing went wrong with their carefully constructed plans. Quinn was vocally reluctant, declaring to Sue that she wasn't sure she could be trusted not to decapitate the infuriating brunette if left in her company away from school grounds.

Sue had actually chuckled, reassuring the blonde that she had tact and self control reminiscent of a highly ranked sniper she had casually dated whilst serving in Panama. Then she had filled and signed three slips to excuse the girls from afternoon cheer practice and directed them to leave her office.


	6. Prologue : Part VI

**Author's Note I:** I have been struggling with this fic for a while, thinking where I want to take it. Time kind of got away from me, and after careful deliberation I decided to change my original plan for this slightly. I was originally intending to recap everything up until Sectionals, but considering we're in season two now, and many others have done the same thing, I figured that would just be redundant. There will be a couple more chapters of Prologue (and they'll be longer), and then we will be truly in AU/LA and I will flashback to any important moments that I might have planned on mentioning in the prologue. Chapter title is from **_Beat Your Heartbeat_** by **_The Kissaway Trail._**

Quinn had done surprisingly well at refraining from murdering Rachel. She had devoted all of her energy to silently running interference between Mercedes and her best friends. Every time Kurt said something transparently gay, the words would fall on Mercedes' deafened ears before she threw a hesitant glimpse at the three cheerleaders. Quinn would smirk and nod encouragingly, which in turn emboldened Mercedes enough to turn back to her friend and attempt a tragically dense form of flirtation.

She had walked tall - the acme of the Quinn Fabray she had striven to become, elegant, composed, and cunningly conniving. Nothing could have dislodged her from the Heaven high pedestal she was comfortably positioned on. Nothing except the combination of Rachel Berry's voice suddenly leaving her ears ringing - painfully akin to the noise of her father's old dial up modem - and the faint scent of vomit invading her nostrils from a girl bent over a trashcan a few yards away from the group.

No one else had seemed particularly affected by the smell, but Quinn had needed to breathe through her mouth and turn her face away. Otherwise she ran the risk of tackling the Vocal Adrenaline soloist to the ground just so that she could possess the prime space above the wastebasket. She found it atrocious that it had gotten so far to the point that Rachel was actually making her physically sick.

Whilst Rachel and the others had gratefully accepted Andrea Cohen's invitation for them to sit and observe the remainder of their rehearsal, Quinn had quietly excused herself to the bathroom. When Santana protested about being left alone with the gleeks, the head cheerleader had scathingly assured that she would be no longer than five minutes. In reality, she had hidden away in a locked stall for the majority of Vocal Adrenaline's run through.

When she had received Brittany's anxious text message informing her that Santana was seconds away from succumbing to a rage blackout because nobody knew where Quinn had gone - and she'd been missing for half an hour, her thighs were burning from the strain of being crouched down before the toilet bowl. She'd been motionless, unaware of the minutes passing with her arms outstretched and palms splayed on the prefabricated wooden partitions either side of her body, supporting her weight so her spine could curve and allow her head to hover above the porcelain bowl. She had been waiting for the inevitable, for the molten swirl of guilt and regret in her stomach to reach its boiling point. For it to burn through her flesh and leave ashes in its wake, expelling her soul to the depths of Hell. Or for it to finally outgrow its confines, being forced up past her heart and out of her throat.

She was sure that she had been on the verge of vomiting, but the only bodily fluid leaving her body was the small droplets of sweat secreting from her pores and gathering on her forehead.

She had flushed the toilet out of habit and moved to the sink to wash her hands and her face. When she looked in the mirror she barely recognized the person staring back at her wearily. Her normally clear complexion was marred with angry blemishes, dark smudges beneath her glassy eyes. She had been leaning in closer towards the reflective glass when the door to the bathroom swung open, connecting with a hand dryer mounted off to the side on the wall.

Santana was already ranting when she entered the room fully, not pausing to take a breath as she marched over to where Quinn was stood. Her arm rose quickly, with the intention of clutching the blonde's wrist and leading her back to the group she had strayed from. But with the sudden movement Quinn had flinched and brought both hands up to protect herself from the intrusion. Her own right hand had grazed her chest and she winced involuntary at a twinge of soreness from the contact.

Santana raised a perfectly sculpted eyebrow, held her palms up in front of her face and then slowly and purposely took her friend's hand and left the overly lit bathroom.

Thankfully, seeing Dakota Stanley in motion hadn't deterred Rachel from the pursuit of enlisting his services. When Quinn and Santana rejoined the rest of their teammates in Carmel's auditorium, the brunette's face was hardened with a steely look of determination. The rest of the gleeks however, looked terrified as their rivals hurriedly left the stage at the barked orders of a short man standing in the wings.

Dakota was willing to choreograph a routine for them, but it would come with a hefty price tag. Quinn saw the trepidation on Kurt, Tina, and Mercedes' faces once the egotistical man had sped away in his sports car, and she was amused to see them looking both grateful and frightened when Santana announced that she knew of a way for them to make the money for Dakota's fee.

The three Cheerios quietly conferred with Coach Sylvester on the sidelines the next morning at practice and after making the entire cheerleading team run 10 lengths of the football field; Sue picked up her megaphone and demanded that all female students form a circle around her, whilst the men continued jogging. She grudgingly told the teenagers that they would be participating in a car wash later in the day - which she was organising to assist the glee club with fundraising. When the girls had collectively laughed or groaned, Sue warned them that the car wash was mandatory, and failure to cooperate would result in their dietary plans being condensed until they were supplementing themselves with nothing but water and rice cakes.

Sue had dismissed the squad early so that she could begin completing the necessary errands that would transform the school's parking lot into an impromptu car wash by lunch time. Quinn had checked the time on her cell phone and found that there was still approximately thirty minutes left before the first students would begin arriving at the school. To gain all she could from the situation she had walked quickly to the nurse's office, laying down on an empty cot and immediately falling into a peaceful sleep.

She had only intended to take a short nap until it was time for her to make her way to homeroom, but after being gently shaken awake by the nurse - an old woman with kind eyes - she was told that there were only ten minutes until the lunch bell would be ringing. Quinn was embarrassed; she had never missed or skipped a class since elementary school - unless it was for a doctor's appointment or family emergency. She thanked Mrs Lancaster for waking her, gathered her books from the ground and ignored the vertigo as she stood suddenly. She hastily walked through the door, turning slightly to thank the friendly woman once more.

Her back collided with someone as she'd crossed the door's threshold and after regaining her balance she was immediately admonished by Santana, who gruffly instructed for her to watch where she was going. The Latina's mood was visibly sour so Quinn remained silent and listened to her best friend muttering angrily about the moron who had invented show choir and the imbecilic nature of high school boys. Quinn placed a hand on Santana's arm and pulled her roughly to a stop in the crowded hallway when the other cheerleader began to rant about how she had just broken up with Puck.

Quinn's hazel eyes were wide when she questioned Santana's motives for ending the relationship they had been carefully constructing since the first week of freshman year. The brunette had shrugged noncommittally and said that Puck simply could no longer cater to her financial needs, and that she was currently suffering with a particularly unrelenting bout of PMS.

Quinn had laughed heartily for a moment, but suddenly it was as if a thousand sharp-edged jigsaw pieces had been dislodged from where they had previously lay dormant in her brain matter and magnetically aligned to form a painfully detailed picture at the forefront of her mind. Blood pulsated loudly through her veins, gathering speed and leaving her ears deafened to the sounds of the world around her. She could feel her heart beating rapidly, desperate to escape from beneath her skin before she was undoubtedly smote by God's hand.

She ignored Santana's curious gaze and sprinted towards the closest bathroom, pushing past loitering students and faltering every few yards when her legs threatened to give out beneath her. It wasn't unusual - considering the amount time that they spent in each other's company - for the cheerleaders' menstrual cycles to sync. With Santana's offhanded admission minutes before, Quinn had realized that she couldn't remember the last time she had had a period. It might've been a farfetched conclusion to reach, but after barely having time to lock the stall door before emptying the contents of her stomach, she knew that it wasn't.

In one solitary moment the staples securing everything that defined her unhinged and ruptured, eradicating all traces of the façade she been tolerantly erecting since the day Grace had left for college.

It was as if she had shed her skin, left exposed and vulnerable under the disapproving scrutiny of the glaring bathroom lights. With only the off white walls and an obscenely inappropriate depiction of Rachel Berry that she had drawn a few days prior bearing witness to her transfiguration.

Her chest heaved, a futile attempt at clearing the dizziness in her head. Her stomach muscles tightened, forcing the bile and remnants of Quinn Fabray - the socialite, out of her body. She had collapsed tiredly to the tiled floor, not even caring that she was probably exposing herself to at least a dozen different genetic strands of fungal bacteria.

For the first time since she had started high school, her eyes filled with tears and she was powerless to stop them from falling. She tried to convince herself that regardless of the rationality behind her deductions, that she was wrong. That there was no semblance of a possibility that she could be…

But it was ineffectual, because as she had sat there in the now too claustrophobic stall, tiny fragmented moments from the weeks that had passed highlighted themselves in acidic mockery. The fatigue, the nausea, the tenderness in her breasts that she felt throughout the days when she had awoken from sleeping on her stomach. They were all symptoms of the same ailment.

The lunch bell rang, disrupting the stifling silence of the restroom and the aroused snarls of the hellhounds that she could practically hear salivating at the sight of her defiled skin, eager for the cue that would allow them to tear into her flesh and usher her blasphemous soul through the gates of Hell.

When Quinn heard the door swing open and the bathroom fill with the unwelcome sounds of girlish laughter, she had struggled to upright herself and leave the stall as composed as she could muster in that moment. The other occupants of the room were freshman Cheerios and Quinn didn't know if they had noticed her flushed and disheveled disposition, or if they were just too afraid to comment but they silenced themselves immediately.

She had felt as though she was in purgatory as she moved though the mass of students on their way along the halls to the cafeteria, nothing but a husk consisting of meat and organs that were no longer connected to nerve endings. She was unaware of the movement of her limbs, of the erratic rise and fall of her chest as it desperately attempted to devour enough oxygen to keep her away from the brink of the afterlife.

It was only when the automatic glass doors of the local pharmacy parted before her and her nasal senses were overloaded with the scent of disinfectant that Quinn seemed to return to her body. She had moved quickly along the aisles, bypassing the shelves stocked full of antiseptic creams and toiletries and ignoring the stares from the other customers, who were watching curiously as the young blonde girl in a cheerleading uniform marched through the store with purpose during school hours.

When she had found what she had been searching for, her eyes traced over the lettering on all of the various packages. There were so many different brands, and Quinn had no prior knowledge to which was the leading in the market or the most reliable. With trembling hands she tested the weight of a slim white box advertising a digital stick, and after turning it over to read the instructions she scowled in disgust and replaced it on the shelf. There were also tests that revealed colored lines depicting the outcome, depending on the hCG levels found in the urine. Quinn was overwhelmed, having no idea which kit she should purchase. In the end she had taken a shallow breath and picked out a random five, each from a different brand.

She had glared at the male clerk serving her, he seemed only a few years older than her and wasn't fighting to control the smirk playing on his lips at the sight of the boxes she had haphazardly dropped on the counter surface. When he asked how she was doing in a condescendingly smug tone, she had wordlessly balled her fist around a couple of packs of chewing gum and thrown them down along with the credit card her dad had given her for emergencies. He chuckled and she had threateningly narrowed her eyes, sighing when he just began laughing louder. Her reign of power was over, she could feel it.

Quinn demanded that the clerk double bag the kits she had bought and had proceeded to lift them to eye level, making absolutely sure that the contents were disguised by plastic before she even entertained the thought of leaving the sanctuary of the pharmacy.

Once she had arrived back at the school, there were only approximately five minutes remaining until classes resumed. She hurriedly threw the bag she had been clutching protectively to her chest into her locker, checking to make sure that the small steel door was locked securely multiple times and safe away from the prying eyes of those around her.

Brittany had suddenly materialized by her side, and they linked arms habitually and headed to English whilst the taller blonde announced that the carwash had been a jubilant success, the drama of Mercedes throwing a large rock through Kurt's car window aside.

Quinn was unaware of the evolution of time throughout the afternoon. The hands on her watch appeared to be moving painstakingly slow one minute, and then passing at warp speed the next as she struggled to distract her mind away from the little white boxes awaiting her in her locker. She moved between classes in a daze, not noticing any of the surrounding students who still cowered in fear as she passed even though she was obviously lacking her usual bite.

The last bell rang out, signaling to the lowly adolescents that they were finally free to flee from their daily torture and head home, whilst their tormenters remained behind for football, hockey and cheerleading practices. Quinn entered the choir room and was surprised to find she was the last to arrive; all of the other members of New Directions were stood in a military line formation looking apprehensive as Dakota Stanley stalked from left to right and back again, his gaze surly with disapproval.

She had pushed back her shoulders and attempted to regain a fraction of the air of confidence that before today had always surrounded her and taken long strides across the room, standing in her rightful place between Brittany and Santana. Dakota immediately passed out laminated booklets outlining the team's new dietary plans and schedules, overlooking the cheerleaders completely. Quinn had half-heartedly resented the short man for ignoring her, feeling as though her weight was increasing exponentially as the seconds passed by.

She began feeling nervous as the choreographer started from the end of the queue with Artie, dragging his eyes slowly over the boy's frame as he sat up in his chair nervously. He announced offhandedly that Artie was to be cut from the team immediately, using his disability as an excuse to discredit his worth. When Mercedes had protested on behalf of her friend, Dakota turned his attention to her without hesitation and snapped a witty comment which seemed too racially ambiguous to not be intended as hurtful.

She thought that she would have enjoyed listening to Dakota rip into the gleeks one by one, leaving a festering cesspit of insecurity in his wake. But more than anything she felt the beginning of terror pulsing in her abdomen as she waited with baited breath, a wishful mantra repeating in her head that he would not somehow be able to see the state in which her body was currently in.

Instead - just as he had done with the booklets - he moved past them with only the utterance that they did not need to change anything about themselves for they were perfect enough already. Quinn felt her muscles slacken at his words, relief flooding her body and manifesting itself as the tiniest of smiles on her lips. It felt like an eon ago that she had last heard an appreciative compliment from an elder, she knew that she was a valuable asset to Coach Sylvester, but the woman had never made her feel any better about herself than a common work mule with alopecia. Dakota had soothed her, and she finally felt stable enough to appreciate the pleasure of hearing his obvious disdain when he regarded Rachel's nose.

She had even needed to bite down on her tongue against a low chuckle that threatened to rise from her throat when Dakota honed in on Finn. The choreographer was attacking with words that Quinn herself had often wanted to scream out loud, unapologetically accentuating her boyfriend's sluggish smile and graceless limbs as a translation for stupidity.

Though as quickly as it had ignited, her self-assurance dampened and faded away to reveal the twisting knot of guilt in her stomach. She watched as each member of the glee club averted their eyes to the ground, attempting to mask the hurt etched plainly on their faces. It was the first time that Quinn had been present to witness the damage that a cruel, premeditated insult could do. In the halls she would brush past someone, knocking her shoulder into theirs and turning her face at the last moment to snap something unpleasant directly into their ear, making sure it was heard and processed clearly. Then she would casually walk away, not sparing a glance backwards to see if her prey was angry, crying or even dropping to their knees and commencing a mass suicide with everyone else she had bullied.

But it was different in the choir room; she had been forced to stand in the same vicinity of those she had actively sought to antagonize and watch the repercussions of what such cruelty could achieve. She had let her own chin fall forward, eyeing the linoleum and momentarily enabling the sorrowful tension in the air to permeate her senses. She let Dakota's harsh insight wash over her, imagining herself in the place of any one of the teenagers standing close by. She could feel their vulnerability; smell the self-loathing that seeped from the open wounds that she had never allowed to heal. She had said far worse things to each of them, and she couldn't begin to imagine how it must have made them feel because hearing a complete stranger spitefully telling them they were all meaningless felt terrible even though it wasn't directed at iher/i.

Dakota had given them an ultimatum disguised as a question; they could either conform to his way of operating - sacrificing their dignity in the process - or he would leave and take any chance they might have had at placing at Sectionals with him. Her face turned to the left in unexpected surprise when Finn stated that he was quitting the club. Her ears barely registered the sound of Tina, Mercedes and Artie doing the same. She could see the side of Santana's face; her friend not attempting to hide a satisfied smirk of victory. The Cheerios' scheme was playing out beautifully, each domino having been previously put in place and now falling messily but in perfect synchronization, chaos in its wake.

The remorse of every hurtful comment she had ever made twisted inside of her, threading and tangling together until her heart was painfully constricted in their grip. She had wanted to stop her teammates from leaving the room. She had wanted to tell them that they weren't insignificant at all, that each and every one of them was talented and special and deserved to be seen and appreciated for being exactly who they were.

But she couldn't. Instead she silently willed Dakota to suddenly develop some humanity, and ignored the unbridled pleasure emanating from the two girls standing either side of her. Her brain was overloaded with the internal struggle between Quinn Fabray and Quinn, the vulnerable little girl that was well on her way to becoming absolutely sure that she had ruined her life. She had crossed her wrists over her stomach subconsciously, failing to ignore the inner monologue of an eight year old Quinn tearfully asking her babysitter over and over why her mother had drank the poison that made her go to sleep on the coach and not wake up when she shook her.

It was Rachel's voice that had broken through her reverie; Quinn ran the pad of her thumb over her abdomen a few times as the memory of her childhood with an alcoholic mother slipped away. She listened intently as Rachel delivered the speech that she couldn't, watching Dakota's face for every miniscule reaction to the inspiring words falling from the brunette's lips.

Quinn had been understandably bitter that it was Rachel Berry who could so effortlessly boost the morale of the defeated group of teens. After all, the brunette had seemed to make it her mission in life to take from Quinn every one of the little things she actually cared for. Leadership included.

Rachel made a show of firing Dakota, and Quinn noted the unadulterated respect in Finn's eyes as he appraised the shorter girl. He looked at Rachel in a way that he had never looked at her and suddenly the desire to destroy every fiber of Rachel Berry was back with a vengeance. She found little comfort in Dakota hurriedly picking up his duffel bag and scurrying out of the room with Finn at his heals, arms held out in front of his body, knees locked and eyes unseeing as he moaned cannibalistically.

Her patience finally shattered when Rachel - after giggling at her boyfriends antics - stretched up to throw her arms around his neck in a loose hug, ignoring the hand Finn had held out for a high five. Quinn wrapped her hand around Santana's bicep, not caring that she could feel the skin beneath her fingertips concaving around the pressure of her nails. She pulled the girl out of the choir room, barking over her shoulder for Brittany to follow. She had not relinquished her grip until they reached the door to Coach Sylvester's office.

Santana had been hesitant to approach Sue so soon after their carefully laid plans had backfired, but Quinn needed to be confronted by the wrath of the cheerleading coach immediately. She needed Sue's biting cruelty to quash the lingering remnants of empathy coursing through her veins. She wanted to be reminded of what was important to her, to revert back to the head cheerleader who felt nothing when ruling the school with an iron fist.

Coach Sylvester had said everything that Quinn had expected her to, that they were failures and a disappointment to both the team and to themselves. But Quinn found that her words lacked their usual power. Instead of feeling sufficiently chastised, the blonde felt the regret of what she had willingly allowed herself to become over the past year and some double in size.

Santana had fled the room in tears after having their tanning privileges revoked for the remainder of the semester - a punishment that didn't really affect Quinn because she cared too much about her skin to subject it to the harmful UV rays of the sun beds in Lima's rundown iU Can Tan/i salon.

She had hesitated in the doorway, knowing that she would be seriously reprimanded for the words spilling past her lips. She thanked Coach Sylvester, though her ears were still ringing with the proclamation Rachel had made minutes before. She thanked the older blonde for helping her understand that there was no reason to punish others for your own shortcomings if you were able to deal with them and allow your full potential to be noticed.

She knew that it was too little too late and that nobody was even around to witness her moment of redemption, but she had felt the need to say it even so. She just wanted to remember that the kind hearted little girl who believed anything to be possible in the world was still somewhere inside of her. She hadn't waited to gauge Sue's reaction; she just nodded once and left the room completely. Though it was Friday and therefore a game night, Quinn was thankful that McKinley had an away game that week so the Cheerios' attendance was not a requirement.


End file.
